


light up my world

by LittleMissSketch



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Loneliness, Poor Jack, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, The Author Regrets Everything, jack is the last light, pitch has an inferiority complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissSketch/pseuds/LittleMissSketch
Summary: The Guardians do not recruit Jack Frost. This changes things.





	light up my world

**Author's Note:**

> oof, it starts bad and honestly i have not edited this

Jack Frost had been alone for three hundred years, so what was another day of people walking through him?

_What was another day of spreading happiness to everyone but himself?_

* * *

 

Jack was lonely, though… wasn’t he always lonely?

If you never speak to anyone and never know anyone, are you _really_ lonely?

Or are you just being selfish?

* * *

 

_“Don’t be selfish, Jamie!”_

Jamie had refused to give someone something.

Was that selfishness? Keeping something to yourself?

It must be.

* * *

 

He’d never keep anything to himself anymore.

He’d never steal food for himself anymore.

He didn’t matter.

_Had he ever mattered?_

* * *

 

Pitch Black had finally killed The Sandman.

The Nightmare King smirked as his Nightmares disintegrated into the ground; they would wait for his command to rise again.

He loved the irony of it all. That he had killed The Sandman with his own—corrupted—sand.

_He would win._

_He just knew it._

* * *

 

Pitch watched as, one by one, all the lights on the globe ran out.

All of Africa had lost belief.

All of Asia.

All of South America.

All of—

_Why wasn’t the light going out?_

He’d have to investigate, wouldn’t he?

* * *

 

Jack flew around the town, coating the ground in a light layer of snow before the sun would rise.

It was the least he could do for the kids, they deserved some fun.

 _“Are you the last believer?”_ A smooth voice asked, a rooftop away from him. He obviously wasn’t talking to him, so he continued forwards.

 _“Answer the question, winter sprite.”_ He sounded kind of annoyed, maybe Jack should answer the question?

… Nah.

* * *

 

The winter sprite was… annoying. The white-haired male wasn’t doing much, other than spreading winter.

He hadn’t even _looked_ at Pitch, either!

It wasn’t _too_ likely he was the last believer anyway.

Pitch melted back into the shadows to look for the child.

* * *

 

Jack finished his round, all of the town had been snowed over.

His job was done for the night.

Now, he could relax in Antarctica and think about that guy.

He had seemed off, though he _had_ been yelling at nothing.

He was probably intoxicated, thinking he saw something in a similar place to Jack.

It was normal.

_It had happened before._

* * *

 

The Guardians searched high and low for their believer.

They couldn’t find the child.

Nicholas used his last snow globe to bring them to his workshop and take a last look at their believers.

_The believer was in Antarctica._

* * *

 

Pitch was confused.

Why was a _child_ in Antarctica? _How_ did they get there?

He shadow-traveled to the frozen tundra the child was supposedly at.

He scoffed to himself, _this better be worth it._

* * *

 

The winter sprite was sitting in the Arctic.

 _Was_ he _the believer?_

_It’s… possible… but—_

Why hadn’t he responded when Pitch had talked to him?

 _“Again,”_ he spoke, just loud enough to be heard. The child flinched, obviously thinking he was alone in Antarctica. _“Are you the child?”_

He didn’t even turn around.

* * *

 

He must be hallucinating again.

_It’s the same voice as before!_

_It’s just a repeat hallucination, not that I haven’t had_ those _before._

He turned around, after a minute or two.

* * *

 

He had dead eyes.

They were bright blue, but they were dead.

His skin allowed him to blend into the pure white of Antarctica well.

Pitch wasn’t impressed.

* * *

 

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pitiful cough.

Why couldn’t he speak?

_Oh._

_Right._

_He hadn’t spoken in centuries._

* * *

 

Could he not speak?

Some spirits were mute, but he hadn’t seemed to be the type before now.

Odd.

* * *

 

 _“I,”_ the syllable felt odd coming out of his mouth. _“I’m not… believer?”_ He couldn’t believe he had gotten a whole sentence out! It felt like he was trying to force a block of concrete down his throat.

The shadow-man narrowed his bright yellow eyes.

 _“Hm,”_ a shark-like grin grew on his face. _“I have an idea! How about… I take you to my lair and we’ll see if you’re the believer?”_

He’d really rather not, but—

* * *

 

The winter sprite had to be the believer. He had to be.

He was the only one in Antarctica.

No one else could _survive._

* * *

 

Pitch looked at the globe.

_The dot was at his base._

He looked at the winter sprite.

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Jack… Frost.”_

Pitch Black grinned, and walked towards Jack.

_“Well, Jack. Looks like we’ll be getting acquainted real fast, won’t we?”_

Jack looked scared.

Good.


End file.
